The Trials of the Honorable F. Darcy (23 page)

“You are very forgiving,” she smiled at him. He slipped his arms around her waist.

“No, I’m just my cousin’s tormentor. He disapproves of me and it irks me. I remind him of how unsuitable I am at every opportunity.” With that, he swept Elizabeth into a dip over his knee and kissed her. She whooped with laughter and returned his kiss.

Darcy watched this little passion play with increasing dismay. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but he saw Elizabeth smile with joy and slip her arms around Richard’s neck, saw Richard dip her and kiss her. He knew Richard was making a bit of a show for his benefit but he didn’t trust Elizabeth’s feelings.

Richard slipped out the door with a mischievous glance at Elizabeth. She bit her lip as she closed the door. Had she gone too far? She didn’t want to see Darcy’s face. She turned and studiously kept her eyes on the floor.

“I think I’ll turn in,” she announced. Jane sighed in relief. The night had gone beautifully until the last ten minutes and she wanted everyone out so that nothing would ruin her blissful evening.

“Yes, we should be going Will. Good night, Miss
Bennet
. Good night Jane, Charley,” Caroline said, smiling. She hugged Jane and Bingley warmly and then took Darcy’s hand.

“Let’s go home, sweetie,” she said warmly. He pressed his lips together but said nothing. He walked toward the door and deliberately left his overcoat in the closet. He bustled Caroline out and quickly drove her home.

“Won’t you come in?” Caroline said as she put her arms around his waist when he walked her to her door. She gave him a warm kiss that he did not return.

“No, thank you, I must be going,” he replied and gently pulled her arms from around his waist. He kissed her on the cheek and opened her door for her. She watched him from the window as he jogged back to his car and drove off in the direction from which they had come
-
the direction
opposite
of his home. She dropped on the couch feeling depressed. She had been making progress, hadn’t she? She had spent an awful lot of time with him lately
...
and what had it got her? Hot and bothered with no release. She threw her purse on the floor in frustration.

Darcy was already parked outside her house when he called Elizabeth’s cell phone.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. I left my coat here. Will you come down and let me in? I don’t want to disturb Jane and Bingley.” He smiled at his clever ruse.

She sighed.

“You’re not fooling anyone but I’ll come down,” she said. He frowned. Sometimes he really did overestimate his cleverness.

He was waiting at the door when she opened it and thrust his coat toward him. She was barefoot in a pair of low-slung loose cotton pants and a tank-top with no bra. Her hair was pulled up into knot at the top of her head.

“Can’t I come in?” he asked, not taking the coat.

“Won’t Caroline be lonely?” she asked coldly. He rolled his eyes and stepped forward, pushing the door open. They were talking in whispers and the lights were out; apparently everyone was already in bed when he called her.

She stepped aside to allow him in and closed the door behind her. Now that they were alone, her heart was thumping and she felt vulnerable. She clutched his coat to her chest.

Darcy turned to look at her. She was as he loved her most; natural, tousled. Even in his anger with her, his pulse quickened and he wanted to kiss her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you would be coming in town?” he asked.

“It was spontaneous,” she answered.

“How long will you be here?”

“I leave tomorrow evening.”

He closed the distance between them again.

“There’s nothing to stop us from being together now,” he said. He took the coat from her hands and tossed it aside. “No conflict, no scandal, nothing.” He put his arms around her waist. “Nothing.” He brushed his lips across hers. She did not return his kiss.

“Nothing except your new girlfriend,” she replied. She was hurt that he had rebounded so quickly. He pulled his head back.

“Caroline means nothing to me,” he said.

“How comforting that you can take your pleasure from her with no attachment,” she replied. She pulled away from his arms. He was bewildered; was she actually jealous of Caroline? He hadn’t slept with Caroline for a year! He had no attachment to her at all!

“You know very well that I am not like that,” he said angrily. “There is nothing between us. Which is more than I can say for you and Richard! Are you sleeping with him?”

She looked at him in outrage.

“You have a lot of nerve!” she exclaimed.

“You fell into my bed quickly enough but maybe I wasn’t quite to your liking. Decided to go for the younger, happier Fitzwilliam branch of the family? They’re not as rich but for American standards, they’ll do,” he spat out bitterly.
Bullocks! That’ll win her back
! he thought with an inward groan.

“I think you’d better leave,” she said hotly, picking up his coat and throwing it at him. He caught it and stood still, checking his anger.

“I want to marry you,” he blurted. What on
god’s earth
was he doing? Words that never crossed the reasoning part of his brain were coming out of his mouth!

“Really! I’m astonished. As much as I’d like a husband who thinks I’m a mercenary whore, I’m going to have to decline. Get out.” She flung open the door for him. He held his coat. She hitched her thumb toward the driveway. Thinking that he had done enough damage for one night, he left.

His hands were shaking as he drove home. He was filled with rage, remorse, and heartache. Why was it that with any other person on earth he could be perfectly in command of his emotions, perfectly polite and acceptable? Why was it only with the woman he loved that he became an overbearing oaf? His whole intent in returning had been to ask her to see him, to let him fly down every weekend to be with her. Not to propose and certainly not to insult her.

He unlocked the door of his condo and tossed his keys on the counter. He sat at the table in the dark, looking out over the city and replayed every moment he had ever had with her in his head. He let out a shaky sigh and put his head in his hands. After long moments of struggling with self-control, he expelled a sob and let tears come. He did not hear Georgie enter the room but felt her arms around his shoulders. He turned his face into her chest and let her comfort him. After a few moments, he wiped a hand over his face.

“Will, no woman is worth this torment,” she said softly.

“I keep making it worse,” he laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Every time I see her, I go in with good intentions and then something happens and I push her further away.”

Haltingly, and with prodding from Georgie, he related their entire history to her, from first meeting to last. He left out the juicy bits but she got the idea. She sighed sympathetically and held his hand.

“I’m an idiot.
I have brought this on myself,” he concluded. She nodded.

“Will, you’ve never had to pursue a woman, ever. You’re insecure and it’s making you do crazy things. I know exactly what you’re going through. I only have two bits of advice; first off, don’t let it destroy you, don’t let it change who you are. Second, try to fix it. Don’t call her, don’t see her, you don’t have enough
self-control
when you’re around her. Write her a letter, pour it all out, and see what happens. Women are terribly romantic about letters, you know.”

It took him a week to write the letter and another week to get the courage to mail it. He followed Georgie’s advice and did not email her; real letters took thought and time.

Dear Elizabeth,

I am so sorry for what I said to you at Jane’s dinner. I said it out of hurt and jealousy, two emotions that are relatively new to me. I don’t know how to handle myself around you anymore. I find myself constantly thinking back to England and wondering how we got from there to here. I’m in a living hell.

I can’t stop thinking about you. Every single fucking minute of every single fucking day. On those rare occasions when I can sleep, I dream about you and expect to wake up next to you. I am bitterly disappointed every morning.

Every day when I get ready for work, I walk to the door and wonder what I’ve forgotten, because something is missing. It’s you. Your laugh, your eyes, your breath on my neck, waking up with your hair in my face. The sun isn’t as warm as it used to be and I feel empty all the time.

You’re everything I need, everything I have ever wanted. I’ve never been as happy as when we are together. When I’m with you, it’s as if all the responsibilities of my life have slipped away and the only one that matters is making you smile.

This situation is impossible. I can’t hide my feelings for you. I don’t want to hide them. We have a chance now to make it work and we’re blowing it. I want to see you.

But I don’t know how you feel about me. You didn’t want to tell me that you love me, I had to pull it out of you. That’s not comforting. I can’t keep running against your brick wall. I can’t keep being rejected, it’s too painful.

I think I’ve made my wishes clear; I want nothing more than to be yours. I need to know what you want from me. I need to know if you love me, if you feel the same about me as I do about you. I need to know if there is any chance for us. I’ll wait if I know there is some hope, some light at the end of this hellish tunnel. I’ll wait as long as you want. But I need to know that you want me to wait for you. Please, please tell me what to do.

Will

Elizabeth read the letter three times in her hotel room, crying a little harder with each reading. She had tried to bury her feelings for him but without success. She didn’t want to believe that he loved her because his sense of timing was so horrible but, in fact, he had declared his love for her in his own most vulnerable moments.

She knew she loved him. She knew she was throwing it all away if she didn’t answer. But she didn’t know how to answer. She wanted to take it slow, to try a more conventional relationship with him, to make sure it wasn’t all infatuation. She was afraid that she would learn that she, or worse, he, would discover that underneath the surface there was nothing, no regard, no love, no affection. Yes, she wanted passionate love but she also wanted tender love like Jane and Bingley had. Passionate love burns bright and fast then dies.

She didn’t answer him at first. She rushed through the week with staff interviews during the day, in between overseeing painting and wiring of the office. When she got back to her hotel, she would eat room service and shower. She would watch the news. Then, when she crawled into bed, she would read the letter again. He loved her. She knew that. She loved him. He didn’t know that. How could he not? Was he completely blind? After a week, she decided that she needed to respond. Then, every night, she took out a piece of paper and began a letter and every morning she re-read it and crumpled it up and threw it away. Nothing she said by way of explanation or apology seemed sufficient. At last, she gave up. She booked herself a spa treatment over the weekend and tried to relax.

Caroline Bingley, on the other hand, had no doubts whatsoever about what she wanted. While Elizabeth was contemplating Darcy’s letter and her response, Caroline was seeking him out. She had called him the day after the engagement dinner but he avoided her. She invited him to dinner and he declined.

After a week of avoiding her, he felt it best to simply give in and let her see him; perhaps she would back off. They had lunch several times a week. He helped her look for houses for Bingley and Jane. Yet he remained distant, disaffected.

She could hammer and hammer and he would not crack. But Caroline Bingley was a persistent woman and after another week, it wore on his nerves. He retreated into work. He met with Georgiana and they played music together. He went to movies alone. He stopped answering his phone again. He was seriously depressed that Elizabeth had not answered his letter.

The same weekend that Elizabeth enjoyed a seaweed wrap, Caroline barged into Darcy’s home and refused to take no for an answer.

“Fitzwilliam Darcy, you are hiding from me!” she said when he opened the door for her. She brought with her sushi and put it on his table without waiting for an invitation. He looked at her with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

“I’ve apparently chosen a bad place to hide,” he said. She smiled brightly at him and waved her hand at the food spread before her.

“You’ve lost weight, you’re avoiding your friends, and you’re depressed. I don’t like it. It’s without fashion,” she said haughtily. “We are going to watch a movie and I am going to spend some time with you,” she said resolutely.

“Caroline, I appreciate your concern but, really, I am fine.” She ignored him and he sighed with exasperation. He sat on the couch and ignored her. She handed him a plate of sushi; he picked at it and then set it aside. He sighed again. “I’m really not hungry,” he said quietly.

“Then we’ll watch a movie,” she said resolutely, flicking through his DVD collection. She pulled out a comedy and popped it in, then shut down the lights. She sat next to him on the couch. “Will Georgie be over tonight?” she asked.

“No.”

“Good, I have you all to myself,” she said. He laughed shortly. She was nothing if not forward. She put her arm through his and curled up beside him on the couch. It was strangely comforting to him; he wished it were Georgie instead but the warmth of basic human contact made him feel just a little better.

They watched for a while and Caroline poured him a glass of wine. Over the course of the night, they finished the entire bottle. He felt just a little light-headed; he really had not been eating much at all lately. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch. He opened his eyes when Caroline kissed him softly on the lips.

“Caro-,” he began.

“Shhh,” she said and kissed him again. He closed his eyes and let her kiss him. Then he gently pushed her away.

“No,” he said quietly. She straddled him on the couch.

“Yes,” she replied, putting her arms around his neck.

He looked into her eyes and smiled gently and shook his head. “No.”

She put her hand on his groin which stirred beneath her. “Do you deny this?” she asked against his lips.

“No. But I don’t want it.”

“You never had a problem with it before,” she murmured and kissed him again. He was alarmed to find himself becoming more aroused. She chuckled against his lips. She deepened her kiss and began to twine her fingers through his hair. He felt his resolve begin to weaken and allowed himself to kiss her back. Perhaps he could have just one night, just one, of comfort and not torment. He let one finger, and then his hand, wander onto her thigh. She slipped one hand under his collar and undid one of his shirt buttons.